


United in Past

by bloodasthickasink



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Dark Carina, Dark Jack, F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Prostitution, Implied/Referenced Torture, Medical Procedures, Medical Trauma, Slow Burn, let's be real here dark everyone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-10-11 11:59:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17446562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodasthickasink/pseuds/bloodasthickasink
Summary: Police Captain Armando Salazar has been sent to work in the city's most crime-ridden area, the Devil's Triangle. He hopes to escape the place that has become his personal Hell. His escape comes in the form of one Dr. Carina Smyth.AKA the modern police PotC AU no one asked for but needed to be done.





	1. First Impressions

The sky above the Devil’s Triangle is dark, a suffocating sort of darkness. Tall spires from the buildings around the area block out almost all of the natural light on this small part of town. The smog and air pollution means that any sort of artificial light, from flashlights to stop lights, can barely be seen. 

Salazar knows the times that light breaks through into the enclosed area of the city. He’s memorized them. 

Sometimes, he wonders if the only reason he hasn’t truly lost his link to the rest of the world is because of those times. About 8:45 in the morning, the sun shines from between the looming skyscrapers and high rises. When the sun goes down, he can barely see it. He feels it, though, knows on some unknowable and intuitive level, that it’s set. Holidays brighten the distained part of the city. Lights from massive parties, such as New Years, manage to make it to the Devil’s Triangle. It’s not true light, not the warm sunlight that he craves after years and years and years of being stuck in this god-forsaken place, but it’s light. He attempts to console himself by paying attention to the oddity of the colors. Bright white, red, green, all electric and inorganic and not at all what he wants. He has to make do, for now. It won’t be much longer now before he can see the sunlight fully.

The only other lights that make it through into this part of the city are the burning, flickering lights from fires. Those seem random, but Salazar knows there’s a pattern to them. He doesn’t tell anyone; he has no reason, even if he did care to. This place is his prison, his personal Hell. He has no reason to wish to save it. If anything, he plans to set it on fire when he can finally leave, when he’s finally released from this place. He tries to ignore the fact that the only way he and his men can get out is if Jack Sparrow ever turn and ran from the trial.

 _Jack Sparrow_.

The name alone makes Salazar grind his teeth together so hard he feels that they could just break, pop right out of his gums from the pressure. His right hand, which had been resting lightly on the railing in front of him, curls inwards. His nails dig into the steel of the protective railing. He feels years worth of rust and paint slice under his fingertips, tiny pieces lodging themselves into the nail bed. He doesn’t care, doesn’t feel the pain at all.

Had that wretched excuse of a ma-

No. Not a man. 

Sparrow is not a man. He refuses to give the gang leader the title of a man. A man would not poison the cities and streets, would not target the weak and vulnerable just to get an extra buck. No man would do the things that this Sparrow has done. 

Sparrow, and all the other gang leaders like him, are not men. Salazar should know. He’s put many of these _**things**_ away in jail for long periods of time. The ones he couldn’t find anything to stick to, well…

No one knew what happened to them. No one was any the wiser.

Until that stupid forking Sparrow managed to get away from him! He and his men were not aware that anyone else had been in the house until they heard the thing run. By then it was too late. He had no doubt that Sparrow had seen the massacre of that particular ring of drug dealers. When the summons came from the deputy director, Salazar knew that the story had gotten out, that he had a witness in a case against him.

Some days he thinks the deputy director was on his side, that assigning him to this piece of shirt part of the city where he could still kill gang leaders and drug dealers and pimps was his way of telling him that he was on Salazar’s side. 

Other days he thinks that the deputy director only did this so that Salazar wouldn’t go out and become a true vigilante. 

A knock startles him. He whips violently around to see that Lieutenant Lesaro is standing by the roof door. He hasn’t closed it behind him, so Salazar can see the stairs descending into the building. Slowly, Salazar’s shoulders lower from their position close to his neck, sliding outwards in the process.

“Captain.” Lesaro’s tone is all business. “The new coroner is here.”

Salazar inclines his head slightly before letting go of the railing. He makes his way over to the other man. His pace is uneven, and he quietly curses himself for standing so long. While his injury was not too terrible, it still flared up when he spent too much time on that particular leg. Lesaro waits by the door patiently. He holds it open for the other man and lets it clang shut behind the two of them as they descend down the stairs.  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------  
When the two of them get down to the bullpen, he can instantly tell who the new coroner is. She’s the only woman in the room. Women were not often sent to work in the Devil’s Triangle. It was a dangerous place for even the most hardened of men, and the police force recognized that. That, and no one wanted to work in that area. It was the worst part of the city without a question. 

She spots him almost as soon as he walks into the room. Several of the officers and detectives are around her, asking her questions and the like. It had been so long since someone new had come along. 

Oddly enough, she only seems to have eyes for him. 

It’s not a romantic gaze. It’s a curious one, a calculating one. She looks as if she’s taking a mental inventory of him, trying to figure every part of who he was just by looking at him. After a second, she gives him a smile of approval and begins making her way towards him. The men that are on his end of the bullpen part in order to let him pass, and the men on the other side do the same. They end up meeting in almost the center of the room, both eying each other appraisingly.

“I assume you’re Captain Armando Salazar.” She extends a hand towards him. Her tone is crisp. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. Whether she knew it or not, she was the first person to speak to him like that in a long time. Oddly enough, he finds it refreshing.

“I am.” Salazar nods briefly before taking her hand. He notes she has a firm handshake. Good. Confidence is key to the job. “And you must be the new coroner, Ms…?” 

“Dr.” She corrects him almost instantaneously. “Dr. Carina Smyth. A pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine.” He responds. He gently lets go of her hand. Despite the friendliness of his words and the absence of a flirting tone, she seems flustered by his words.

“Yes, well.” Carina straightens herself to her full height, despite the fact she still isn’t anywhere as tall as he is. “Is there anything in particular I should know before I begin my work? I understand there is a backlog of bodies, and I would like to get started on them soon.”

The officers in the room watch their exchange, eyes flicking back and forth between the two of them. Behind him, Salazar can feel Lesaro trying not to smile. It seems he appreciats not being the only upfront one.

“Not at the moment, no.” He motions towards the resident medical examiner. “Sebastián will show you around the precinct before he takes you to the morgue.” Sebastián steps forward from the small collection of officers and begins talking to her quietly. Armando turns towards his office, almost stalking his way to it. Behind him, he can hear people going back to their desks and assignments. He steps inside his office and out of habit begins getting the necessary paperwork together. Looking at the pages, he represses a sigh. It seems so rote and menial today. Nevertheless, he dives into it, hoping today to get it done quickly. It’s made a little difficult by the fact his thoughts began straying towards Carina.

Dr. Carina Smyth would no doubt prove to be an interesting addition to the precinct.


	2. Interrogation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The question turns. Why was Dr. Carina Smyth here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clearly, this idea has been eating away at my brain. 
> 
> Also, if anyone knows Spanish and would like to help me correct any grammar mistakes I make, please tell me! It's been years since I've learned any bit of Spanish.

The precinct seems to be more alive than ever. An energy thrums throughout the building and its occupants. Salazar see more people smiling out of the corner of his eye, and he can hear the occasional laugh. It’s not the cruel laugh or hollow laugh that tended to float through the halls. These sounds held more mirth and a genuine feeling to them. He had no doubt in his mind that this shift in energy came from the presence of a new person, one that the men would not have to kill and did not have to let go. They finally have the luxury of letting themselves become attached to someone.   
He quietly notes that this elation seems to be coming more from the younger members of the crew. The older, more senior, officers don’t show nearly the same amount of enthusiasm. Some of the older sergeants seem downright skeptical of the new addition, if their crossed arms and constant urging the others to get back to work is anything to go by.  
A knock on the door to his office makes Salazar lift his head from his paperwork. He can see Lesaro through the glass.

“Entran.” He says, although it’s more out of formality than anything else. Lesaro opens the door and slips inside, closing it silently behind him. Salazar makes a motion for the other man to sit in the chair across from him at the desk. He wants to breathe a silent sigh of relief when his Lieutenant takes a seat. Good. That meant it was more likely to be personal business as opposed to police business. His theory is confirmed when Lesaro leans back in the chair and gives him an appraising look from his right eye.

“Some of the men are excited for the new addition.” Lesaro begins almost carelessly. Salazar nods.

“I’ve noticed.” He pauses for a moment before setting his pen to the side. He lifts his head in order to properly look across the desk at the other. “What is your opinion of her?”

Lesaro blinks but very quickly recovers. Armando does not often ask for his opinion on things. Well, not as much since they were assigned to the Devil’s Triangle. 

“I like her demeanor.” His tone is blunt, although it is obvious that he is choosing his words carefully. “I don’t know if she is… trustworthy.”

“Understandable.” Salazar leans back in his own chair as well, intertwining his fingers and resting his hands in his lap. He knows Lesaro well, so he waits for what else his Lieutenant has to say. 

“That is the main worry that some of the others and myself have is that we don’t know why she was sent here.” Ah. So that what was worrying Lesaro. 

“I personally do not think that the police chief sent her here to ‘check in on us,’ but I do wonder why she is here. No one with any sense would volunteer to be sent here.” Lesaro continues. Salazar raises an eyebrow. The thought that Carina could be some sort of spy had flickered briefly across his mind before he met her, but her demeanor had made him reconsider that. Her reaction to meeting him and her directness made him feel as if she couldn’t possibly be one. It was too genuine. The idea begins slithering around in his brain. 

“I see.” The Captain fights to keep his tone neutral. He brings one of his elbows up to the desk, resting it on top. His chin lowers to the lifted hand. Inside of his head, all sorts of scenarios play out. After a moment, he stands up abruptly, pushing his desk chair away from himself. His loyal Lieutenant follows suit.

“It’s time to pay the good Doctor a visit, no?” He asks.

“She should be in the morgue with Sebastián.” His companion informs him, easily falling into step with his Captain. Salazar doesn’t respond. His mind is too preoccupied with why she might be here. His penchant for killing those he could not legally catch had already been exposed. Perhaps they needed more evidence? Or maybe she wasn’t a spy for his higher-ups. A snarl begins twitching at the corners of his mouth. Perhaps some sort of gang leader sent her to be a spy. He thought that his time in this forsaken part of the city might have made them underestimate him, but one could never be sure. Despite not being men, some of these gang leaders could be clever. His snarl turns into a scowl. While Sparrow had been his primary worry, he knew of others who were much more sly. A name flits to the forefront of his mind. Yes, there was one he was beginning to keep tabs on before all of this had happened. The name started with a B, if he was remembering correctly.

The trip to the elevator and down to the morgue is silent. Once again, the men part before him. This time, however; it is not out of respect but rather fear. The rage bubbling inside of Salazar made itself known very quickly, manifesting itself on his face in the form of a vicious expression of rage. His mind is awhirl with possibilities, and his hands begin to curl and uncurl with each one. Idly, his right hand goes towards the gun he keeps holstered at his side at all times.

The ding of the elevator and the sliding of the doors breaks him from his reverie. Salazar stalks his way down the hall, Lesaro following. He isn’t sure if the other man is following because he is curious to see what will happen or because he plans to protect the Doctor if Salazar’s rage could not be contained. He swings the doors to the morgue violently open. Both Sebastián and Carina look up from their examination.

“Captain Salazar.” Carina removes her hands from inside the man’s chest cavity. This gives the perfect view of the man’s sternum, how it has been perfectly broken in order to form the autopsy. The flesh peeled back over the deceased’s face and to his side only serves to emphasize that fact. For her part, Carina seems to sense that something is wrong because she immediately begins peeling off her gloves and throwing them into a nearby trashcan. 

“Doctor Smyth.” He tries to keep his tone cordial. “I just remembered one thing that I forgot to mention during our first meeting.”

Carina raises an eyebrow. “And that might be?”

“Do you know of a criminal named Jack Sparrow?” His tone is cool yet dangerous. Carina scowls, an expression of absolute disgust making its way across her face.

“Unfortunately, yes. He spent far too much time lingering around the last precinct I worked in.” She wrinkles her nose at a particularly nasty memory. “He’s part of the reason I requested to be here.”

Requested to be here? Because of Jack Sparrow?

The room grows silent. Salazar doesn’t try to fight the building rage. Behind him, he can feel Lesaro go for his own gun.

“Explain.” The Captain bites out.

“He kept on acting as if he owned the place.” Carina seems to be oblivious of the danger surrounding her. Either that, or she was purposefully ignoring it. “He thought he was above the law because he was useful on an occasion or two.” She lifts her head, looks Armando directly in the eyes. Her gaze is intense, a fire burning behind them. “I heard what he did to you, what he did to your men.”  
Salazar feels his blood beginning to boil even more, and he steps towards her, intent on getting a straight answer out of her no matter the cost. To his surprise, Carina mimics his action, her stride just as even and sure as his. He looks her in the eyes for a moment, trying to figure out what her angle was, how she was trying to play him.

“Then you know the danger here, yes? How dangerous it is for an… associate of Sparrow to be here.” His tone and voice are icy, an odd contrast to the intense expression on his face. He doesn’t know how he wants to kill her. Shooting her in the gut would be satisfying, but it wouldn’t be as nice as snapping her neck. 

“I’m not an associate of his!” She bites back, anger flitting over her features. “If anything, I would be happy to get rid of that man.”

“And is that why you were sent here? Because you have a story that might garner sympathy?” His whole body is shaking with the effort it’s taking to keep his anger at bay. Had Carina been a man, he would have struck her by this point. Since his morals would not allow him, he keeps clenching and unclenching his fists. He can feel his molars grind down harshly against one another.

“No. I was assigned here because I made it quite clear to the Captain at my previous precinct that I would not work with that man. It was either him or me.” Her features soften for a second. “Perhaps I underestimated my value, but at least I didn’t let them steamroll me in favor of a criminal.”

Salazar feels his shoulder slide slightly down, feels the tremors of rage begin to slow and lessen. Good. At least he knew that she was no friend of the Sparrow. 

“I think I know a way to get you out of here.” The doctor’s words draw his attention. He inclines his head towards her. Interest is written on his face, mostly replacing the sadistic rage that had been there before. “The deputy director did tell me he would consider letting you go if you showed signs of penance. He directly told me to keep an eye out for that sort of behavior. I can tell him what he wants to hear, make sure you and your men can leave.”

“And why would you do that?” His hackles rise despite the fact that he is very interested in this proposition. He hasn’t been out of this part of the city in a while, would do almost anything to do so.

Carina pauses for a moment, swallowing hard. “He killed my father.” Her voice was soft and quiet. “He killed my father, and he tore apart my family when he did.” Her eyes close briefly, and she takes a deep breathe. “I… I cannot bring myself to harm him myself, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want some sort of-“

“Retribution. Vengeance.” Salazar breathes. Carina nods slowly.

“Yes.” Her voice is quiet. “Those sound like the right words.” 

Salazar takes a moment to regard her. Carina’s shoulders are slumped, and she looks as if she’s close to crying. She’s still trying to maintain a brave face, though. He can see her eyes watering, but she keeps on blinking the rapidly forming tears away. In that moment, he makes a decision. 

“Come by my office after 5.” He tells her as he straightens himself to his full height. “We can discuss this more then.” With that, he sweeps out of the morgue. He can feel both Lesaro and Carina watching him go. Lesaro’s expression seems to be curious and afraid. Carina seems to be looking at him with some sort of relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, the question is: is Carina's father's death a literal one or a metaphorical one?


End file.
